3 strikes - out
by knirbenrots
Summary: "How did you envision that your life was going to end, agent Callen?" He'd thought about that question many times during his youth, and later, during his career in one of the alphabet soup of agencies.
1. Chapter 1

**3 strikes - out**

* * *

Authors Note: Loosely – very loosely - based on a real life news item from July 2019 which let us know how Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS) assisted apprehending sailors and Marines because of human smuggling and drug-related offenses. The arrestees were all from the same unit.

* * *

"How did you envision that your life was going to end, agent Callen?"  
He'd thought about that question many times during his youth, and later, during his career in one of the alphabet soup of agencies.

Kni®benrots

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || July 20th 2019**

The black Dodge Challenger halted on the street opposite Deeks' bar, the 'Bar with no name', where Callen had found a new place to live only a full year ago. All was quiet on this small street; different from the freeway and the broad avenues Sam already drove and where traffic was manically busy every single part of the day.  
Sam Hanna heaved a deep sigh once he took in the surroundings. The green Mercedes which Callen currently drove was nowhere to be seen.  
'Damn, G... You could've called me,' he muttered. He wasn't amused at all, after taking the long road to pick up his friend and partner for an early Monday morning start. All for nothing.

He turned the key in the contact and put his car back in gear.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

Sam dropped his bag on his desk and looked around. None of his coworkers' laptops were booted on the desks and he shrugged as he glanced at his watch.

"About time, agent Hanna," Eric spoke from the balcony, a smile on his face as he caught the surprise on the senior agent's face. "New case on board!"

That explained, Sam figured, why the others weren't around. He took the stairs with two steps at the time and pressed the green button to open the sliding doors to the Ops center. Deeks and Kensi, Eric, Nell and Rogers waited for him. "Hetty not around?"

"A good morning to you too, agent Hanna", Rogers replied and he retorted "Agent Callen not around?"

"Don't see him," Sam said in a matter-of-factly mocking voice.

Then Nell scraped her throat and said "About the case..."  
Now everyone's attention went to why they were around in the Ops center she continued "Early this morning a group of cyclists found a body on Hermosa beach. Shot and, so it appears, died on the spot. Some yards further from this body there was a woman, shot like the male victim, but still alive."

"Our, or rather your, case since both of them were Naval officers. Don't ask how I know — I was told it is obvious since both were wearing their uniforms," Rogers said.

"That's right," Eric agreed, "And for your information, Lieutenant Ellie Gerard is the officer in the hospital, Manuel Franklin, also a Navy Lieutenant, the deceased."

"Blye, Deeks, I suggest you two go and visit Gerard and see if she's able to tell what happened."

Kensi nodded at Rogers' suggestion.

"Long Beach Medical Center," Nell told her.

Before the two of them left Ops Rogers said "Hanna, you go and pick up your partner and head out to Hermosa Beach."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

The second soft buzz reached his brain and Callen's eyes shot open in the realization it was his phone instead of the alarm clock. He gently rolled his body until he could grab the phone with his left hand.  
"Yeah," he simply introduced himself.

"Yeah what... where the hell are you?" Callen heard Sam nearly shout on the other side of the phone.

He coughed once and groaned softly as he hoisted himself up. "Good morning to you too, Sam. I ehm, guess I overslept."

"Where are you?"

"My place. Where else?"

There was the near silent curse coming from his partner "Your car wasn't there."

Callen let his hand run over his face before he unconsciously scratched his bare chest and hummed. "It isn't. Figured I'd better take a cab last night. Listen, I'll be in there in half an hour." He was on his feet already.

"Be ready in fifteen," Sam replied. "We've got a case. I'm on my way to pick you up."  
He heard his partner sigh deeply before he hung up. He could only imagine what kind of a night Callen had had and he chuckled to himself.

Ten minutes later Callen turned off the shower tabs. He would've preferred an even longer shower right now but he also knew Sam's 15 minutes were exactly 15 minutes. He toweled off quickly and walked back to bedroom where he took a clean set of clothes and got dressed. He glanced at his watch. No time to brew a decent cup of coffee and so a glass of fresh water had to do.  
The roar of the Challenger outside already reached his ears and he searched and found his boots. Sandy. Sam wouldn't like that and so while walking down the stairs he reminded himself to stamp his feet first, once outside. He blinked his eyes against the bright light and headed to the car where he eased his still tired body into the passenger seat. A Styrofoam cup was held in front of him and he gladly took it.

"Figured you could use one of these. Black, no sugar," Sam said, dimples appearing in his cheeks with the smile on his face. "So, had a rough night?" Sam tried.

There was just a confirmative hum as an answer and nothing more. Knowing his partner it was useless to get anything else as a reply.

Callen yawned before he took the first sips of the hot beverage. The caffeine did what it needed to do and he started to wake up to the usual himself, though quite slowly. He let more explanations about the questions go and said "So, what've we got?"

"Dead Marine. Hermosa Beach."

"What's new." Callen commented. It was true, this all sounded like a usual crime. Traffic was a crime too though and it took them more time than usual to get where they wanted to be. Callen was quiet and leaned his head against the cool window, keeping eyes closed.

"Was she worth the while?" Sam tried again.

"Don't recall any 'she's', Callen replied. "Honestly, hardly anything happened, Sam."

The large special agent just shook his head and said, more serious again, "Kensi and Deeks are on their way to the hospital. The second victim didn't die, you see."

Callen opened his eyes and turned his attention to what Sam mentioned. "Wait, there were more people involved?"

"Like I said. There was a double shooting. Both Navy Lieutenants."

"So we've got what, the crime scene and a dead one. And they've got a talking victim, let's hope, who's a witness as well?" He half-turned to his friend.

Sam nodded. "Sounds easy, right?"

* * *

TBC

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

**3 strikes - out**

**chapter 2**

* * *

Authors Note

\- Thank you for the ones who read, favorited and follow, and to all of you who reviewed. I always appreciate this, and to those who do read: please let me know through a review what you think of it. This helps me and keeps me sharp in writing!

\- As I told in the previous chapter too: the story is - loosely - based on a real life news item from July 2019 which let us know how Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS) assisted apprehending sailors and Marines because of human smuggling and drug-related offenses. The arrestees were all from the same unit.

* * *

Disclaimer

To the readers: did you know that G. Callen is fictional? I tend to forget that detail every now and then. So, I'm still glad he decided to play along, as has his team. After this story is finished, I agreed to send him back to the place which was created by Shane Brennan and which belongs to CBS.

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || on their way to Hermosa Beach**

"So we've got what, the crime scene and a dead one. And they've got a talking victim, let's hope, who's a witness as well?" Callen half-turned to his friend.

Sam nodded. "Sounds easy, right?"

"Depends," said Callen.

Sam frowned. "How's that?"

"We don't know what the witness saw. Perhaps there's nothing to work with. Or perhaps he's not in a position to talk any time soon."

"He's a she," Sam mentioned. He switched lanes and in matters of a few minutes he took the turn to Hermosa Beach. He halted his car right at the place Nell had sent to his phone and then he called in at the office "I've arrived, Nell. Anything new?"

_-"Nothing yet, Sam. Callen with you?"_

"Of course he is," Sam replied as he winked at his partner. Different from what he was used to Callen wasn't in the mood for a light banter.

"Give us a call if there's anything new from Kensi and Deeks, will you?"

_-"Will do so," Nell promised._

Without another greet he disconnected and then he glanced at his partner. "You ready?"

There was another short nod coming from Callen. Sam got out in the same pace as Callen did and locked the doors. Then the two of them walked to where the local police officers put their yellow-black 'do not cross'-tape between low cones and streetlight posts, and which police cops still guarded to keep public at a distance.

Sam introduced himself with simply showing his badge before he and Callen stepped over the tape to the place where a white sheet covered a body.  
Again, it was Sam who introduced himself "Special agent Sam Hanna and this is my partner, special agent Callen, NCIS."

"Gary Bahr, Hermosa Beach police," the younger police officer said after he sighed gratefully. "Glad you're here, finally. The coroner's waiting for you, you'd better tell them what to do with the corpse."

"Of course," Sam nodded while he stepped closer. Callen stood and took in the surroundings, narrowing his eyes.

"Coming or not, G?"

Unwillingly, Callen joined his partner.

Once the coroner lifted the sheet there was a very sharp inhale of breath coming from Callen and his shoulders slumped forward in a way which didn't really suit the lead agent.  
"G?" asked Sam.

Callen shook his head and turned away from the few people and for the moment Sam let him. The coroner was indeed glad he could address someone with a responsibility and he explained "Two bullets entered the body, straight into his chest. Killed him within the same second. A professional kill-shot, great marksman-ship," he concluded.

Sam muttered an agreeing hum, then took his phone. He took a few pictures and sent them to the office without further notice. The coroner covered the dead man's body once again with the sheet.

"You are agent G. Callen?" Bahr, the younger police officer now called with a certain urge in his voice, his cell phone in his hand.

Callen just nodded.

"We need you to come with us," Bahr said. He motioned to coworkers of his, and two more police officers came his way.

"And why would I do that?" Callen asked.

"It seems as if you were the last person who was seen in the company of the deceased."

"G?" Sam now stood beside his friend and partner.

Callen just said "The man's right, Sam. I did see this man, the victim, before." Then he addressed the police officer "But we all know that this is our case from now on. Not meant for regular police, but a federal case. Navy, thus NCIS."

The officer called Bahr agreed with a short nod. "The case may be all yours, but the FBI is the agency to deal with federal agents who cross the line. While waiting for them you are supposed to come with us."

"Wait! What do you mean with that part of 'crossing the line'? Sam inquired.

Callen shook his head. "No way I cross or crossed any line. Sure, it could be someone saw him and me together. This guy–" and he motioned to the shape which was covered with the sheet once again – "This man was drunk, damned, and was about to have everyone in the bar wanting to fight him. So yeah, I managed to get him outside. Does that mean I have anything to do with him ending up being dead in here? Don't think so." Shaking his head again he said "So no, don't think I'm going with you."

An angry man like the lead agent of NCIS, a man dressed in ordinary clothes so who guaranteed he really was a federal agent, drew the attention of the other uniformed police officers. "You need a hand in there, officer Bahr?"

Before Bahr, definitely the police officer in charge, could answer, Sam's phone buzzed. And although Sam wanted to keep his focus on the things that appeared to get out of control right on the spot he glanced quickly at the screen.  
Rogers. Sam accepted the incoming call with a short 'Hanna' and listened to what was said. All the time his gaze was darting from the dead man who was carefully put on a gurney in the awful grey body bag back to the angry and unwilling face of his partner. He wondered what on earth had happened.  
It was a short call Rogers made, and Sam didn't like the outcome of it.  
Not at all.

He stepped forward and held up his hand as an intervention. "G... FBI is waiting for you at the boatshed."

The bright blue eyes of his friend and partner were hard now but puzzled at the same time. "But...why?"

"Don't know. They contacted the agency," Sam shrugged. "I suggest you let them take you there," and he gestured at Gary Bahr and the other officers.  
He then sent a confirmative nod at Gary Bahr and said "Fiji Way. My partner in here will give you the instructions to get there himself, won't you, G?"

There was no reply but Sam noticed how Callen clenched his jaws as he walked slowly with Bahr and his two companions, and was being seated in the back of a police car which then drove off.

It took another slow five minutes to deal with the administration with the coroner and the police, then Sam walked towards his car.

Only now he noticed Callen's Mercedes on the parking, next to the bar.  
What on earth had been going on?

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS' Boathouse || Fiji Way**

"I'm sure this all must be a mistake." Callen stated.  
He stood next to Bahr who kept his stare at the place NCIS called the Boatshed. It really was a boatshed. Officer Gary Bahr never visited the place before.

A few moments later he followed the uniformed NCIS agent Mulloney and special agent Callen, while Bahr's own colleagues remained in the police car.

Mulloney pressed a code on the small block of keys placed on the wall and opened the door immediately after.  
Callen's own turf, yet entering the place like this was a whole lot different from usual. Still, he walked in without a moment's hesitation.

Special prosecutor John Rogers sat at the kitchen table together with someone Callen never met before.

"There you are. Let's talk, agent Callen," Rogers said as he got on his feet. "We'll take room 2."

"Don't be ridiculous," Callen addressed his temporary handler. "You wanna talk, just talk. Ask me anything you want. There's nothing I've got to hide."

"Yet we'll take room 2," Rogers insisted as he lead the way. Callen shook his head and after a deep sigh he followed Rogers, followed by the other man. To officer Bahr the job ended here and now, probably to his disappointment, since agent Mulloney tapped him on the shoulder and accompanied him back to the outside door.

Once the doors of room 2 opened, Rogers motioned him to sit down. Before he did, there was the question "You've got an alibi?"

Callen kept his face blank, his expression unreadable. "Who wants to know?"

He faced the man who sat down next to Rogers. That man looked up curiously, meeting probably the clearest blue eyes he ever saw which rested on his face. Cop's eyes, too hard to ever be completely relaxed or innocent. Eyes that could pick up every lie in stories or interrogations. Pick up every single doubt in other people's eyes or stance, perhaps even better than a lying detector. And the other way around — this man probably was able to fool everyone too.  
He heard about this man, in his own agency and from agents in other agencies as well. A great special agent but not always easy to handle. Cocky. Very stubborn, self-assured, confident and perhaps violent when necessary. Distrusting, a loner too but he and many others knew stories about 'the Ghost' — about this man.

He answered "Emerson White, FBI."

Rogers calmly interrupted. "You may want to answer to agent White's question, agent Callen."

He shrugged. "You already know I visited the same bar as the dead man on the beach."

"Manuel Franklin," Emerson White nterrupted. "The Lieutenants name was Franklin."

"If you say so," Callen retorted. "Now if you mind I tell you what I know."

"Were you carrying your gun?" White asked.

Irritated by another question Callen nearly snapped "No. I was just planning to grab a beer or two."

"I was told you live above a bar," White commented. "A bar which is owned by coworkers of yours. Special agents who own a bar." He glanced at Rogers and shook his head. He the continued "You're some kind of bouncer, one might say. Yet you chose to go elsewhere. And decided what, do the same thing in there?"

Callen shook his head in disbelief. "I am keeping an eye on the place when Roberta Deeks is in there alone, that is, when I'm around. I own my living as a special agent and I serve our country, just like that. Now, about last night, I wanted to relax. Which is nothing illegal, I'd say. After all it was a weekend night without any urgent matters. So I went out. Had dinner."

"Alone?"

"Alone", Callen stated. "And after dinner I found that bar. Had a few drinks in there too. There was this crowd of naval officers entering, some of them more or less drunk already. Lieutenant Franklin, the man you mentioned, was one of them. He was about to get himself into a fight. So—"

"What was the subject? Why were they going to fight?"

Callen shrugged. "Dunno. But he - Franklin - took his gun. Figured it would be bad to have someone shooting around in a bar, so I ushered him out. That's about it. Left him in there to cool down, went inside again, paid and left myself then. That's all."

"You have an alibi for that?"

He sighed. Could it be the taxi driver? The barman? "Well… someone must have seen me coming in again. See me pay. Or the taxi driver could tell you."

"A thin story, I'd say." This came from Rogers. A guy he thought he could trust and Callen's gaze spat his boss' way, his eyes and voice cold as ice right now.

"What you mean, thin?"

"It means that you're suspended, agent Callen, pending our investigation of your role in this matter," White mentioned as a confirmation of what Rogers just said. He wrote down some more notes, signed the paper and pushed the files in front of Rogers. Rogers found a pen somewhere in his jacket and took it.

Callen raised his voice in disbelief. "Wait, Rogers. You can't do this, you can't be serious. I mean — I told you everything I know. I cooperated. You can't keep me grounded just like that!"

Rogers just shook his head and put his signature on the sheet of paper which he shove back to the FBI man.

"Badge and gun please," Emerson White said.

"I'll hand them over to Rogers in here, being my temporary boss. He's in charge. He's a special prosecutor as well, he should know what to do," Callen said.

"You ought to know the rules, agent Callen," Rogers shook his head. "FBI's in charge of cases like these."

"There is no damn' case!" Callen spat.

"That's for us to decide," White replied. "For now you are not allowed to interfere with this investigation at all. Furthermore, you are not allowed to make use of any of this agency's means or to contact your coworkers about it. Nor the other way around. Mr. Rogers will see to that, won't you?"

A nod from Rogers came as an agree. "Which reminds me, Callen, you may want to hand in your cell Phone too which belongs to the agency."

Callen got up, took every single item he carried with him from his pockets and threw them on the table. He then switched his attention to the camera which he knew Rogers and White had running, clenched his jaws and sent the briefest nods to the ones he knew would watch this tape too. His team.

Then he simply opened the door of this interrogation room and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

_Thank you for reading!_

Kni®benrots


	3. Chapter 3

**3 strikes - out**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Authors Note

Thank you for the ones who read, favorited and follow, and to all of you who reviewed. I always appreciate this, and to those who do read: please let me know through a review what you think of it. This helps me and keeps me sharp in writing!

* * *

Disclaimer

NCIS Los Angeles does not belong to me. The true owners are CBS, and the characters were Shane Brennan's. And even though this story is loosely based on a real and serious news, any use of names is purely coincidental.

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

_Callen clenched his jaws and sent the briefest nods to the ones he knew would watch this tape too. His team._

_Then he simply opened the door of this interrogation room and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him._

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || inside Sam's car**

Even before Rogers had the opportunity to inform the team, Eric Beale let the team members know through an app message how Callen had handed his credentials and gun to Rogers. The second written message which came immediately after the first one he sent to Sam, Deeks and Kensi was -_What the hell is going on, Sam?_-

The senior agent was still on his way back from the crime scene on Hermosa Beach to their headquarters, yet was waiting for a traffic light to turn green when he read Eric's messages.  
Sam cursed aloud. Again he wondered what was behind this story. There was no way to reply since the cars in front of him accelerated. The long row in front of him, but also behind him, wanted to move on now the color changed.

So instead of sending his co-workers a written message he pressed the green button and called in with Rogers.  
"Callen talked with you already?" Sam asked. He kept his voice leveled. No need for the special prosecutor to find out he knew more than he asked.

"Agent Hanna... As a matter of fact he did."

"And?"

"Better to discuss this face to face."

Sam hummed "Right, I'll call him."

"Now that is not what I meant. If you want to discuss this, discuss it with me. There's more to this case than we should share by phone," Rogers said. "Head over, Hanna."

"On my way," Sam replied. "Though traffic's a crime which I need to handle first now."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

Half an hour later Sam sat in the very familiar rattan chair which Hetty had told him so many times to have seat in. John Rogers occupied the opposite chair – Hetty's. He sensed the hostility coming from the senior agent. Not very different from his partner beforehand and the special prosecutor from the DOJ knew he was back where he'd started with this team. The dislike, the distrust: it was all back.  
And when he was truly honest to himself, he felt intimidated by the large former SEAL too. Still, Rogers faced Sam.

"Tell me things I don't want to ask, things you haven't dared to let your thoughts go over yet. Tell me, Rogers, why was Callen taken of this case?"

"Well…" Rogers cleared his throat and continued "He didn't have an alibi."

Sam shook his head. "Neither do any of the other people on the bar or outside, if you start asking around."

"I get that point, Hanna."

Sam got up from his chair. "You did something which was, and I gently put it in my words, stupid and which damages our team in here, Rogers. Don't try to manipulate me, the team or Callen – ever again!"  
He stood at the desk and pointed his finger at the man he grew to like but who he now found annoying. "Damned, Rogers. You cut him loose. Perhaps if you knew him longer than you do, you'd have realized what that means to him. Why?"

Grimly, Rogers said "FBI is in charge when it comes investigating federal agents. My Department handles this with the FBI. In fact, I got a phone call and White was on his way already. There was no choice but to get this case going."

Sam let his gaze rest on the other man's face. Despite the sometimes nearly mousy expression on Roger's face, the man was no fool and he doubted that Rogers was okay with what was going on. The stare made John Rogers feel more uncomfortable.

"I'm going to call him," Sam said.

Rogers opened a drawer of the antique desk and grabbed some items from it, taking the phone and held it up. "He won't answer it. Besides, we ordered him to keep away from anything regarding this case. It would damage his reputation. It's still your investigation, Hanna. Callen's role in it however is still FBI's investigation. He's not supposed to contact you and to be honest with you, I guess it's better not to do the other way around."

Sam turned away, shaking his head and answering with a three words sentence only "Read his files."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Minutes later, Sam had called Deeks to inform if there was any news from the hospitalized witness. Actually, he didn't really care about that. He needed to talk to someone about his partner, and why not the two other members of his team. He told them he was coming their way.

He was only halfway when his phone rang and one glance at the screen made him answering it.

Eric nearly whispered when he called "Sam... we've got some results back from the lab. Already."

"And?"

-"You gotta come and see this, I mean—"

"And?" Sam repeated.

-"And you won't like it."

Sam hit the dashboard with his free hand. This case... what had Callen got himself into?  
"Be back in there in fifteen," he promised. "Oh, and Beale, does Rogers know?"

-"Nope."

"Stall him. I need to see it first. We could discuss it, maybe with the others."

-"I can... or well, I thought... What if we talk about it somewhere else. At the hospital for instance. The others, I mean, Kensi and Deeks, are still around and you and I each come from a different direction and we'd be there at the same time. And Nell knows, she saw and read but she won't tell. But well, only if you think—"

"TMI Beale. Get your ass out of there and take your tablet."

-"On my way." Eric confirmed.  
He nodded at Nell and instead of talking aloud he sent her a DM. One could never be too careful.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || Torrance Beach, Paseo del Playa**

A cup and saucer were put on a tray in front of him by the petite woman whom he sincerely missed at work. Hetty Lange called those flower-painted stuff Bone China, Callen remembered as he took the cup and saucer from the tray.  
She sent him a sincere and warm smile as she said "I brewed you a chamomile-passionflower tea, my dear boy. You look like you need it."

In her house she addressed him with 'dear boy' or 'my dear' like many, many years ago and even without the tea it eased the anxiety and Callen felt calmer in here.

Her words were an open invitation but still he didn't know where to begin.  
"He threw me out, Hetty. Rogers just agreed with everything this FBI guy suggested. I'm out. As if I'm a freaking scary fugitive who's dangerous to his fellow Americans. They never intended to see it the way I saw it. Was only trying to help the guy," he said, his jaw set and rage taken over reason right now.

From behind her glasses and with her own cup of tea in her hands, Henrietta Lange just watched the man with the dirty blond hair and the ocean blue eyes who sat opposite of her in one of the comfortable chairs. She knew that he was about to explain what he meant with that single statement. He always had. True, there had been a time he distrusted her too, the time before she told him everything she knew about his past. Everything she COULD tell him, that was.  
It had surprised her very much that his father had turned out to be alive, though the man died quite recently. In fact, everyone her Grisha knew as a family member was taken away from him. Except Alexandra, but that woman never felt or behaved as family. There had been love in his life, but Anna and her boy decided to part recently as well. He had his team, which used to be hers to handle.  
Her days as an operations manager however were weighing far too heavy on her old shoulders, but with Granger gone, the debacle with Mosley and with assistant director Ochoa coming and going she always kept an eye on what was going on. Rogers seemed to fit in perfectly, albeit he wasn't NCIS. But her team and him got along after getting used to each other. And now, this? Her mind was in a whirl.

"I simply grabbed a beer or so, prevented a bar fight with people drawing a gun and Rogers and some FBI guy tell me I'm suspended, because the same guy I ushered out of that bar ended up dead, found on a beach. And apparently another Lieutenant was shot too, but survived. Well, if it wasn't me, Hetty, who did this?"

"Why, my dear, I wouldn't know. I guess it is for your team to find out. Have you contacted them?"

He shook his head. "I'm not about to contact them, nor the other way around. Don't want them to end up in trouble."

"You shouldn't worry, Grisha. It all seems like a very ordinary case for our people, I'd say. The moment the magic twins or your fine three team mates do what they'll always do, it all will be okay again. Just try to relax a little. Take a swim, like you always loved to do."

His chin jutted out like it always had when the boy doubted an option that was given and Callen heaved a deep sigh. Hetty may be right but somehow, deep down, this was bothering him more than he wanted. What had happened last night and why did it feel he got involved in something he was unaware of?

He drank the last bit of tea, put down his cup and started to make his own plans.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Long Beach || ****Long Beach****Medical Center, visitors restaurant**

"Hermosa Beach Police officers found a gun which was recently fired. A Sig Sauer. We had it fingerprinted."

Eric hesitated a second, but Sam knew enough. This was what Eric meant being the news he wouldn't like to hear.

"Callen's gun?" Kensi raised her brows.

Eric shook his head. "Lieutenant Franklin's. But Callen's prints are all over it."

"He told me he got Manuel Franklin out of that bar after the guy drew his gun. Callen could easily have taken his gun to prevent a shooting, right?" Sam said, unconvinced that Callen did anything wrong.

"But if he didn't fire it, who did? It was only Franklin's fingerprints and Callen's. No-one else's," Eric said as he raised one shoulder.

"And we may have an eye-witness in here but she won't be able to speak any time soon," Deeks sighed.

All four of them fell silent for a while.

Then Deeks' phone started to blare 'mama said knock you out', one of LL Cool J's songs, and Deeks sighed deeply when he decided to answer it.  
"Mama, what's up? You know I'm at work."

He listened to what she was saying and shook his head. "No I don't know where he went. But the man's a grown up, you know. He doesn't tell everything what's on his mind."

After another short pause during which he listened he said "No mama. I'll see what I can find out." He hung up.

"What was that?" Sam asked.

"About Callen. Apparently there were some guys asking for him but when Roberta got to his room he wasn't there. Obviously... but it seemed as he hadn't been around at all. As if no-one even lived there - at all."

"He left?!" Kensi asked. "Of course not. Not without telling. He'd never do that!"

"Any chance finding out who wanted to visit him?" Sam frowned.

"Sure," Deeks said with a grin. "Roberta insisted we'd have cameras installed as well. We all know Callen isn't always around to keep an eye on this place, right? I'll have the footage checked. It's not the fact that someone came to ask for him and he isn't around, I just wonder… Well, he never was into house decorating, was he?"

While the others were uttering their worries, Sam was the only one who left his thoughts unspoken. He hated a situation like this. Following the protocols, pending an FBI investigation, Callen had been suspended. Cut off from the agency. And Sam knew too well that his partner wasn't taking that lightly. Leaving his place just like Roberta Deeks just told her son was a move which fitted Callen. The lone wolf move which hadn't been shown recently. But with Callen on his own, Sam knew he had to somehow hurry the team up to come with clear evidence that Callen wasn't guilty of anything else but what he had mentioned — that he'd tried to help.

"Stop it," his deep voice sounded. "Instead of staying around discussing things in here, we need to work this case like we always do. "Kensi, Deeks, why don't you go and check that bar, 'Mullay Harris', and listen to what they come up with," he ordered. "Beale, you and I will pay a visit to Franklin's and Ellie Gerards' unit at Camp Pendleton. Hear if something suspicious has been going on lately."

"And what of Lieutenant Gerard in here wakes up and can give any explanation?" Kensi asked.

Sam shrugged. "Whatever she has to tell, she can tell any time, I'd say. It can wait. It has to wait..."

Eric piped in "What do we tell Rogers?"

"Nothing. That is, nothing about the fingerprints. Proves nothing, does it?" Sam replied. "I'll deal with it. But what matters most of all to me is hearing what you think of it. You believe Callen is innocent, or you think he broke the rules and went rogue?"

* * *

_Well, let me know your thoughts on this issue! Thanks for reading,_

Kni®benrots 


	4. Chapter 4

**3 strikes – out**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Thank you so much for leaving your reviews. It is always a pleasure to read your thoughts! To those with a fanfiction account it was easy to reply. To Linda and Varvara11 I can only tell in here how much I appreciate your comments!

As ever: This is to let you know you are reading a work of fiction. As ever, names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Kni®benrots

* * *

_"I'll deal with it. But what matters most of all to me is hearing what you think of it. You believe Callen is innocent, or you think he broke the rules and went rogue?"_

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

The other three coworkers were silent for a few seconds after Sam's question.

"Well, I must say," Deeks started with an innocent voice after he let his thoughts go over Sam's question. "Callen does always act as if he's invincible. But he's no super-human, is he? So, what about if he had a few too much and made a mistake indeed?"

"Deeks!" His partner and wife blurted out.

"Thinking outside the box, babe," Deeks then mentioned as he smiled his widest grins to Kensi and the others. "That's what Callen taught me to do. But come on guys. Let's get go and do what we always do, work the hard way and go and get the bad guys!"  
Half a second later he added "We all know Callen isn't the one we're after, right?"

His remarks made Sam chuckle. If only Rogers tried to keep in mind how good this team was, as a team. Which included Callen. "Yeah. Let's go, and keep in touch."

On that they went to work.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || Torrance Beach, Paseo del Playa**

Henrietta Lange hummed a Lady Gaga song to herself while she was readying the room Callen had always used when he stayed at her place.  
Sure, she worried about what happened and about what he told and she let her thoughts go over the matter. Indeed, she figured the team's abilities were more than okay and this would only be a short matter for her boy to deal with. In fact, Sam and the junior agents would handle this matter as fast and thorough as ever, or even better. And in the end, there would be somebody else who would be punished for the crimes committed and a sincere apology of the FBI to the NCIS lead agent. It probably caused some anger and a period of détente between Rogers and Callen, true, but after that the air would clear, she was pretty sure about that.  
She stopped what she was doing when she heard a car drive off.

Hetty shook her head while she exclaimed a characteristic 'oh bugger'.

It was useless to hurry downstairs, still she did. All she found was a note he left on the kitchen table, and his usual scrawled handwriting said 'Gone 'n find out something that's bothering me. Took Jeep & bring it back. G'.

Again she spoke aloud, to herself, 'Bugger'.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Hetty had a great collection of cars, most of them Oldtimers which were dear to her.  
The one he borrowed wasn't. She kept the Jeep in case of an emergency, for instance when the weather conditions demanded something sturdy to drive. Callen took the Jeep, adjusted the seat, mirrors and steering wheel to his posture and drove off.

Despite of Hetty's advice Callen had pondered the situation of earlier on the beach and it hadn't left his thoughts.

The policeman on the beach, the one who had accompanied him to the beach shed, had told him FBI would be called from their office. In a case like that, he'd have Callen driven to the police station where a couple of FBI agents would have picked him up. But then this Emmerson White was with Rogers, waiting already for him, Callen thought. FBI would have requested their agents to take over the investigation, but they never did. Was Sam working with the FBI? And shouldn't Internal Affairs be the one to contact Callen about an investigation? Then why was he allowed to leave the boat shed? There was FBI Special Agent White, but no-one else of the Federal Bureau of Investigation who breathed in his neck right now.  
It made him wonder why... Which was why he needed to clear his mind.

Callen had always loved the frantic hustle of the beach districts in his hometown. Simply because he loved the ocean, but also because it was easy to blend in ordinary life, become unnoted. That's why he'd loved to live in Venice for a while and also why he'd gone to Hermosa for dinner and a couple of beers.  
Not particularly this or that particular diner or bar. Before he had left, no-one knew he'd be going there, not even him. It simply turned out to be the wrong place at the wrong time, definitely. That much he figured out. But somehow someone at Hermosa Beach PD knew he was there and informed detective Gary Bahr about that.

Perhaps it wasn't the most obvious way to find out but he didn't really mind. He drove Hetty's old Jeep through the neighborhood and had some trouble finding the right place but eventually he got there. After he parked the car, he hesitated a short moment.

Rogers had asked, or practically ordered, not to contact his team. And although Callen had agreed he now wondered why. Of course he could stay out of trouble. Of course he didn't want any of the others to get into trouble either. Something was off, was wrong — he knew. But what?

He got out of the car and walked inside.  
A uniformed officer sat behind the reception desk, waiting until people came to her with a complaint, to pay for a ticket or ask her something.  
Callen smiled politely and came for the third category - a question. "Is Gary Bahr around?"

She looked up and smiled at the most beautiful blue eyes that rested on her face. "He is. Does he know you're here to see him, mister...?"

He shook his head. "No, he won't. But he knows me, or better, he knows about me. Could you tell him NCIS special agent G. Callen wants to ask him a few things?" He smiled again and continued "It would be most helpful - Rebecca." He read her name on the tag on her uniform blouse.

"Oh... " she said with some kind of sigh. Then she repeated "Oh. Yes, I'll just tell him. Please do have a seat while you wait." She gestured to the place behind him. Callen nodded and turned around to face the hideous beige plastic seats. He left two seats between him and a grim looking man who was cuffed to the railing behind the seats. Different from when people were brought in for questioning or after being arrested in the NCIS facilities, definitely different.

He didn't have to wait long until Bahr came from the corridor on his left and seemed genuinely surprised to see him. "Agent Callen. To what do I owe your visit?"

Callen got up, extended his hand and shook hands when Bahr did the same. Then he replied "Just a few questions. Maybe we could talk somewhere privately?"

"Sure," Bahr said and he motioned to a small office in the same corridor he just came from. His own, Callen figured.

"Please have a seat."  
Once Callen sat down, Bahr did the same. Then the HBPD officer asked curiously "I heard you were suspended. Yet you're in here to do what?"

Callen leaned forward a bit. "I just wondered, back on the beach you were called and someone told you to bring me in. So someone, beside myself, knew I was seen with Franklin. And someone told FBI or HBPD. FBI was already waiting for me. Would that be your normal fast way of working?"

Bahr let his hand go through his hair, then took a pen from his desk and started clicking it on and off.

"Was it your regular way of contacting?" Callen asked again.

The younger man slowly shook his head, whether because he didn't want to talk or didn't have an immediate answer. Then he said "Listen, I don't think I need or should discuss this with you right here and now. After all you're not in here on an official matter, are you?"

Callen shook his head "I get your point, Bahr."

Both men paused until finally Bahr put down his pen and heaved a deep sigh. "If we got a case that requires FBI I'd call my contact."

There was a trademark half smirk when Callen concluded "I bet your contact isn't called Emerson White."

"Lisa LeBrun sounds different, don't you think?" Bahr said with a faint smile.

"Sure does." Callen replied. "Guess agent LeBrun wasn't the one who gave you my name."

Bahr shook his head. "It wasn't her, that's for sure." He rubbed his chin and took his pen again. Before he started clicking it again he shrugged and said "Frankly, I don't even know."

"Maybe you can trace the call and find out," Callen suggested. "And maybe when you do, you'd let NCIS know. Officially, of course." Callen got up and continued "Thanks Bahr, for wanting to see me, even if this was off the record."

The other man got up too and shook Callen's hand. "You're welcome. I'll walk you out."

When the reception area was reached, Gary Bahr nodded a good bye and turned around again. Callen left the office and once outside he took his own cell phone and made a call. He already knew what his next step would be.

Leaning against the side of the car with his left boot, Callen dialed the Office of Special Projects. He still never wanted to interfere with the work of his team. He wanted information from one person only — Rogers. That's why he dialed the overall number and asked for John Rogers. Once he heard Rogers voice Callen said without any introduction "I want to talk with White again."

There was a second's hesitation. "White? Why's that, agent Callen?" John Rogers wanted to know.

"Does it matter?" Callen asked. "What if I feel betrayed by your decision? You'd better get the team work this case fast since there's nothing I did what you wouldn't have done exactly the same. But I never decided to distrust someone that much and tell a team member to stay away. How's that for a Special Prosecutor who is used to investigating?"

There was an uncomfortable silence. Perhaps he went too far, Callen thought.

"I hear you," Rogers finally answered.

"Get the team on this, Rogers. I won't interfere, I promise. Just think of all the administration it would take you, IF I did. Paperwork is a bitch, right?"

"You think this stinks."

"No I don't. I don't think it stinks. I know for sure it does."

Rogers scraped his throat and Callen knew John Rogers would look into the matter deeper and better. Still, the ten digits number of which he knew belonged to Emerson White lit up in the screen of his phone matters of seconds later.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

Nell checked the short message which appeared as a pop-up in the right side corner of her screen. She didn't remember having seen the name of the sender before but tapped the message and frowned when she read it.

The sliding doors behind her and the other intelligence analysts who used the ops' center opened and Rogers' voice came from right behind her.  
"Agent Jones, if there's any news from the FBI, HBPD or special agent Callen, I expect you to inform me."

Nell nibbled on her lower lip for a short moment, thinking back on what Eric and Sam told her they discussed with Rogers. Then she drew a deep breath and turned her chair to address her temporary boss. "As a matter of fact I was just reading this," she said as she got up and pointed to the large screen. Both of them could read in there and it felt better than feeling the nervousness with Rogers reading over her shoulder.

Nell read whilst explaining at the same time "Gul Hanson sent this message. He's the IT expert of Hermosa's police force and informs me, or rather us, that a certain Andrew Westhorpe contacted Gary Bahr to bring Callen in, orders coming from the FBI. Bahr asked Hanson to send this intel our way." She faced Rogers and asked "You know any of those people, Sir?"

Rogers shook his head, then took Eric's chair and rolled it closer to the desk. "No I don't, agent Jones. Maybe you can show me what kind of detailed analysis you already made, including facts, names and a time-table. See what kind of theories and presumptions you and I share before we inform the others."

Nell nodded and asked "With 'others' you mean Sam and Deeks and Kensi?"

"And the rest. Tell me, where has your partner gone to? I suppose he left to meet with Hanna, right? And then there's Callen. Only when we know more he needs to know too. For the time being, he and I agreed he won't interfere with our investigation."

"And so you expect that to happen?" Nell asked politely. "Because with all due respect, I know better and know how Callen thinks and acts. If you don't keep him involved, he'll go in alone. Without informing his co-workers, that is. And you won't like that, Sir."

John Rogers mumbled something she didn't hear, stood up and left Ops.

* * *

_thank you for reading!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**3 strikes - out**

* * *

Author's Note: To those of you reading: I am sincerely apologizing for not updating any sooner. Some family visits abroad, work (crazy timings) and socializing really got in the way and there were few and scarce moments I could write. Thanks to all of you who did find the time to read and leave a review and of course who found the patience to wait for this chapter ?

And I found it's better to update a short chapter – right?

Now, where were we?

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

He had not noticed that she entered the building until she stood on the opposite side of the desk. Her desk.

"Miss Lange!"

"I reckon it must be interesting material you're going through, Mister Rogers," Hetty remarked with a faint smile.

"Ehm... well," Rogers muttered with a blush.

"Well?"

"Has anyone told you before you appear like some kind of Ninja?"

"Many, many times, John. But you still haven't answered my question."  
Her milky blue eyes scanned the desk and the file folder he was going through. And although she wasn't able to read its cover, there were marked words and handwritten remarks in the margin and simply because she recognized her own scribblings she knew what he was reading. As ever she kept her expression blank, however her voice was a bit sharper when she spoke again.  
"You made a mistake, John."

He glanced at the material again and seemed embarrassed by her remark. His eyes were unfocused as though he was composing a message which would suit his current mood.

"So... about Mr. Callen," Hetty stated as she sent the briefest nod towards the desk.

Rogers closed the file folder backwards so for any outsider it was impossible to notice what he was looking into. Somehow he wondered if she knew all the same what he'd been reading and thinking and he sighed deeply. "What about him, Henrietta?"

"You suspended him. And, if I may say so, you really made a mistake by telling him to sit this one out. You really think he did anything wrong?"

John Rogers shrugged but failed again to answer to her question.

The older operations manager heaved a deep sigh, put down the tote bag which until then hung over her right shoulder. Then finally she took a seat in the rattan chair which mostly was occupied by the other party.  
"In any ordinary cases you could've taken any agent off of the current case and demand he or she are demanded to do restricted work like cold cases' paper work or assist the people at the operations center. In Mr. Callen's case - he even took over my work when a case got too personal."  
She paused a moment, obviously lost in thoughts. "I've been there as well, you see. It's from experience only that I've learned how he behaves, John. You would have noticed if you carefully read the first page of his files."  
She reached out and took the file folder which was still lying face-down on the desk, turned and flipped it and without any doubts that it was someone else's, she leafed through the pages until she found what she was looking for, turned the folder again and showed him.

"I see…" Rogers said and he cleared his throat before he went on. "Actually you weren't the first who mentioned this to me. Hanna, Jones and Callen himself made it clear to me before you did."

"Well then, there's no use crying over spilt milk, as our British ancestors say," Hetty acknowledged. "Please do update me, Rogers."

A slightly more relaxed John Rogers leaned back in the desk chair. "Right," he said. "Where were we?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || 540, Pier Avenue**

He stared at the small screen of the cell phone and wondered where he would start if Emerson White decided to answer a phone call coming from an anonymous caller. After all, the man had ordered him to stay out and away from 'the case' and the team.

Callen wondered what the case really was. The only thing he was sure of was that he hated to be kept in the dark, like he was right now. If it wasn't about himself, he would have wondered why this move was made.

With a soft sigh he shook his head to himself and changed his gaze from the cell phone to the police office in front of him and then to the people passing by. Everyone in his or her own private world, his or own thoughts. His own thoughts were in a whirl.  
It felt like being the one with the baseball bat, knowing there was only one opportunity left to make the right strike. Callen was aware of the fact that Rogers was a person he trusted – so far. He also never wanted to get his team into trouble. Now there was the possibility of course to simply let it go and trust the team to do what they did best: solve the case in a matter of a day. And he could be taking Hetty's advice for granted and try and relax on the beach. Which swing would be the best?

His thumb, however, apparently decided for him since he already had pressed the green button. He heard the phone dial once, twice, three times and then a switch to voice mail. Callen never was the person to think of any quick messages left after the beep, so he cut the call.  
He decided to leave the car and take a short stroll from the Pier Avenue to the pier and the beach, just to clear his mind.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || Sam's Challenger**

Having Eric Beale sitting in the passenger's seat instead of his usual partner was a first one to Sam, and the other way around as well.

He glanced at the young analyst who, he knew, wanted to be an agent every now and then. "So, Beale… You've been quite quiet. Give me your view on what's going on?"

"About Callen?"

"For instance. Just share, will'ya?"

Eric stared ahead for a second before he started "If my neighbor would've gone and grab a burger and he'd interfere with one of the customers threatening someone else, there'd be three scenario's. Both customers would calm down simply because they're addressed and realize they'd better behave as usual customers, that's one. Simon's a big, big guy, you know. Someone you wouldn't want as your enemy. Second option is that they, or one of them, would turn their anger towards my neighbor. Which means Simon would choose to step back and realize he made a mistake." Eric glanced at the senior agent who drove the car and had his attention and gaze on what happened on the road.

"You're rambling, as ever, but well, go on," Sam urged. "I'm listening."

Eric hummed and said "Third option… They're ignoring my guy Simon because these guys are completely focused on what they were discussing and quarreling over. In fact, one of these guys, guy-one, might grab a knife and try to hurt the other one, guy-two."

"And in such a situation, Simon would try and prevent that and fight the one with the knife, maybe even manage to get him to go outside. In which case, the fight would be over and your guy-one, the one with the knife could get arrested," Sam understood. A large dimple appeared in his cheek. "Great thinking Eric. So, you're comparing it to what may have happened in that bar and your Simon would be our Callen, and the fighter had a gun instead of a knife."

"Wasn't finished yet," Eric said. "Because, well, what if our guy-one with the knife, or the one with the gun, wasn't the bad one but the good one?"

Both of them were quiet for a while, then Eric went on. "And what if, in my example, nor Simon, nor the other customers, which includes guy-two, nor guy-one was around to tell what really happened, all the attention would focus on why guy-one was the one who attacked. He'd be the actor, never the victim, right?"

"Son of a gun, Eric! In a case like this, guy-one would be seen as the aggressor. Maybe we'd all frame it like that as well. Maybe we'd want to see Simon being the one who ought to defend himself, for after all, his intervention might have caused the murder. Or on the other hand, worse, he could've taken the law in his own hands and decide to kill the bad guy, right?"

"Simon is a school teacher, Sam. So it's just fiction, he'd never do that. But let's say he'd be a special agent, used to use a gun, and guy-one was shot and died. Then it'd be best to keep him off the street and let justice be done. Internal Affairs would look into the matter."

Sam shook his head. "The whole bunch of visitors could tell what happened. In fact anyone in that bar could. We need to know, Beale, if a scenario like this might've happened. And if so, who, how and why decided to use Callen and his career. Because it must've been someone who knew Callen as an agent."

Sam kept on driving until there was the moment he didn't care anymore whether or not Rogers agreed with his decision. He then gazed in the rear view mirror and changed lanes until there was a first exit to leave the freeway. Then he looked for the first place to halt his car.

Of course Sam had the number of Callen's private phone. Never in his online contacts. Thát list was empty. Instead he had a fictive shopping list in his pocket which Nell helped him with. It hid all the important numbers in a code, those of Aiden and Kam, Hetty's, Deeks' and Kensi's. In a way he never expected, Nell and Eric had no private phones. Their numbers matched the ones of the office. And Callen's number, if course.

And so he used the code and dialed the number.

However, there was no connection.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

After the long explanation in which John Rogers told Hetty his side of the story, she said "This Emerson White, is there any chance to talk to him?"

'You're not the only one who asks, Henrietta. Actually agent Callen did the same."

"Actually that is what I expected him to do. I taught him well and by now, mister Rogers, you may have experienced his sharp way of thinking as well. And we all could use that in here, am I right?"

He started to reply but then simply nodded. For a short second Rogers seemed to ignore the older case handler, then he took his phone and started to dial.

However, there was no connection.

* * *

_Thank you for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**3 strikes - out**

* * *

_**Disclaimer –**_ It has been said before that I never claimed to own any of the characters of NCIS Los Angeles. The show and the characters belong to CBS and were made up by Shane Brennan. As for every other name, venue or situation: all were made up and if they sound familiar, well, that was non-intentional.

However, the story is - loosely - based on a real life news item from July 2019 which let us know how Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS) assisted apprehending sailors and Marines because of human smuggling and drug-related offenses. The arrestees were all from the same unit.

_**Author's Note –**_ as ever I thank everybody who reads this story. Those who left a review were thanked in person, and I wouldn't be surprised if there are more who read but weren't reviewing. Please do leave a note, because to me it means a lot. Again, I do apologize for the (too) long delay in updating…  
This story really is supposed to be a short one, so I am working on what's to come next…

* * *

_\- He dialed the number. However, there was no connection. -_

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

Right now, Hetty's eyes were so much harder than John Rogers was used to and she demanded "Are you sure this is the way to reach this FBI agent in charge, John? And what, in some way you had not planned, your contact mister White refuses to answer this phone call you are making? Or, for heaven's sake, something happened to this man?"

He shrugged and scrolled through the contacts on his phone while shaking his head. "I sent agent Callen this very same number and I suppose he would have called me back the minute he would notice no connection was possible with this Emerson White."

She chuckled in unbelief. "This proves that you really don't know how stubborn mister Callen is, in fact."

"I'd say he is just as stubborn as his tutor is," said Rogers, jutting his chin slightly as he didn't flinch but kept his gaze steely at Hetty.

"Ahum." The sound of the young intelligence analyst quite near to them made Rogers glance sideward. He was about to make a remark, but Hetty beat him to that.  
"Yes, miss Jones?"

Nell smiled nervously, not used to see Rogers and Hetty nearly quarreling, especially not over Callen. "We just had a call from Long Beach' hospital. It's about this Lieutenant Elly Gerard."

"What about her?"

"She woke up, Sir," Nell said. "She's awake and able to communicate with."

"Please do feel free to brief me, Miss Jones. This woman is in a poor condition, yet still important to us. Could you tell me because of what this is?"

Instead of Nell, Rogers replied "Gerard is the second victim of the shooting. And again I do remind you that FBI thinks your agent Callen is involved."

Nell looked away from Rogers. She didn't want him to get suspicious since she figured he wasn't aware of the lab results she knew about. The sharp voice of Hetty made her look up, however.  
"Miss Jones… what is it you are not sharing?"

She should have known better now Hetty was around and now licked her lips nervously. There simply was no way avoiding the older woman's stare and Nell was stammering now "The involvement… well…" She paused in there and Hetty was encouraging her which made it even worse.  
"Well, miss Jones? Please do continue!"

"The FBI…" Again, Nell paused a beat and swallowed and decided it was best to share indeed. "Our lab came back with the results, Hetty. Callen's prints were on the gun which was found. All over it, in fact."

Hetty gasped softly, then mumbled "Right… right."

On Rogers' face a grim smile appeared and he said "And you knew this how long, Jones?"

No way Nell believed Callen had done anything bad. There had to be an explanation she and the others hadn't figured out yet, as simple as that. She straightened her shoulders slightly and said "It doesn't matter that I knew about this, Sir. Callen must have told you about it. Or well, he actually did when you and Emerson White of the FBI asked him about it. I checked the footage of the moment you both decided to fire all kinds of questions his way. He mentioned he took the gun from Lieutenant Franklin. Sounds as if it's quite logical to have his prints on the gun." She didn't mention how those were the only ones but was pretty sure Callen could and would explain even that fact.

The three of them fell silent, and in the end it was Rogers who spoke "Jones, is there any way you can communicate with your partner from Ops?"

She nodded. "Eric's on the move, Sir, as he is joining Sam to find out more about Franklin's and Gerard's team, whereas Kensi and Deeks may have reached the bar where Callen met Franklin. None of them have reported yet, Sir. But I know Eric will respond the moment I contact him."

Now it was Rogers' time to nod and he seemed to be in a more relaxed . "Right," he finally said. "Lange, are you willing and able to keep this place up and running?"

Hetty replied nearly perplexed "Oh, but of course I am! It is exactly what I was used to for the past ten years."

"Not that I ever doubted that," Rogers said. "It's just to let you know that I'm borrowing Jones for the next few hours, since she and I are going to visit Long Beach' hospital."

"Are we?" Nell asked confused. Then she quickly added "Let me get my gear, Sir. Ehrm… tablet too, of course."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || Hermosa Beach**

The walk on the beach had been a good one. It cleared his mind. Callen blended in the crowds, and yet still it was as if he was being alone. And without any interventions of anyone else, Callen nearly was sorry that he couldn't let go of his personal feelings in this case. He felt betrayed and in a strange way also being left out. And adding those two feelings wasn't a great combination. He should've listened to Hetty and stay put, perhaps, but in that case he was betraying himself.

The fresh ocean wind always worked best for him and it came as no surprise he spent the past half hour simply do nothing but try and stay as close to who he was and how he acted as ever. Sure, he made a mental note that Sam might call it 'going lone wolf' once this case was closed but Callen never cared for that.

He needed a plan, for himself and he was pretty sure that once he really carefully set the goals, he would get the team ready and set in action as well. As he was thinking everything over and over again, he was rather surprised to hear his phone ringing.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || Sam's Challenger**

Sam was grateful for having Callen as a friend. A friend who had been around so naturally, but only lately Sam was aware how many things he'd taken for granted ever since Michelle had passed away. His partner, who distrusted so many people, took care of so many basic things. Callen had promised to be around whenever Sam needed him. Which was right now.

The small smile was still on his face when he had dialed and already inhaled to start his introduction.

It startled him the phone call went to voicemail after the first three zooms.

The positive mood disappeared in matters of a second. He slowly breathed out and wondered how to reach his partner.

"Well?" Eric asked, and again Sam was rather startled to hear the tech speaking instead of seeing Callen next to him.

Sam shrugged. "I figured I may just have well disobeyed Rogers' orders and hear Callen's side of the story. And yeah, true, Rogers took his phone and badge and gun, but G's got a phone of himself, of course. I tried to call yet he's not answering. Voicemail, huh… not his cup of tea." He muttered the last sentence more or less to himself, then hit the steering wheel with his flat hand.  
Eric sat straight up in the passenger seat, not used to see the senior agent agitated like he was right now. He pushed up his glasses unconsciously before he said "What the heck… Never mind Sam, just start driving. I'm gonna call Nell, or better, call Rogers myself."

Sam huffed "You think that'll help to contact Callen HOW, Eric? He still won't answer his phone."

This time, Eric shook his head. "As if I don't get that, Sam. Listen, we know he left the office, or rather the boatshed. How did he leave? Where did he go? Nell could run Kaleidoscope as soon as she checked the footage from outside the boathouse. What's new to that?"

"You go, Beale," Sam now chuckled. Somehow it seemed as if he even was forgetting the most obvious small steps Nell and Eric always were taking even without one of the team even started to ask. It was an automatism everyone took for granted.  
He put the car back into gear and slowly drove off.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || Hermosa Beach**

Callen fished his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and glanced at the small screen. A small smile appeared on his face and he pushed the green 'reply' button and announced himself with a simple 'Yeah'.

"Special agent Callen?" White's voice sounded in his ear.

"Indeed," Callen answered. "Emerson White, it's good to see you are wiling to listen to me. Listen, we talked earlier and I must admit that I left in quite a hurry, leaving with many questions unanswered to myself. So I wondered if you and I could have a short meeting, say right now. That's if it's alright with you, of course."  
His words came easy enough.

Emerson White however was silent for a minute. Then he said with a short sigh "Actually I'm not in the neighborhood right now. But if you could meet me in let's say an hour from now…"

"Doesn't have to be a problem. I have a car, just let me know where and I'll be there."

White sounded more optimistically this time. "Seal Beach Navy Base."

Callen nodded. "Okay. Any particular location in there?"

Emerson White explained and ended the call immediately after that and for a small while Callen kept his phone in his hand, nodded to himself, pressed another button and put the phone back in his pocket. Then he took the keys of the Jeep, walked back to the car, got in and sat behind the wheel.

Next move was his.

* * *

_Thank you for reading, TBC_  
_Richtsje_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**3 strikes - out**

* * *

**A/N** Thank you so much for reviewing. There were some questions left about who called who. Maybe it wasn't too clear after all. Callen did try to contact White, but his phone wasn't being answered. Same went for Sam who tried to get in touch with his friend, but this time Callen didn't answer… I hope some of your questions will be answered in the next chapter. Is White to be trusted?  
Again, there was a gap between uploading the previous chapter and this one. A short trip to Russia, and back, was what came between this time ? Fun fact: when one of the men I contacted in there was called Grisha and you are thinking about some else.

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Callen took the keys of the Jeep, walked back to the car, got in and sat behind the wheel.

Next move was his.

Still, before he started the car, he went through his plan once again. Then he nodded to himself and once he was confident enough he turned the key which was used to get this car started. Manual gearbox — the old-fashion way and typically enough it fitted Hetty. No route planner in this one either, but he knew how to reach the place anyway. The 405 was far too crowded to his liking and so he took junction and switched to the Gardena Freeway. Once he was on the freeway he revved up the engine.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

Hetty sat down at the high desk at Ops, usually Nell's place. She swiveled the chair around and noticed that she was on her own at the intelligence center, with HR colleague Rachinda who appeared to be busy with the monthly pay-slips. A task which she ought to do at their own corner of the downstairs office, but the place usually was far too busy to concentrate.  
In the middle of the swiveling back to get the systems going, the desk phone rang and in fact it startled her.

She let it ring twice before she took the receiver. There wasn't any time to introduce herself, since the voice on the other side of the line started shooting orders.

"Hey, how about finding out where Callen went once he left the boatshed? Kaleidoscope may do the trick. Or else… perhaps you're able to track him down through his private phone."

She scraped her throat before she started talking. "Mister Beale. Kaleidoscope is overrated in a case like this one. If you want to know where mister Callen went to, the answer is a very clear one. The two of us spent some time enjoying a cup of tea and going through everything he was thinking of. That is, before he decided to leave again, of course. Which was" — Hetty checked her watch and was surprised how long a day could last, since she saw it was only shortly after four in the afternoon. She continued "It was about three quarters of an hour ago, Mr. Beale. However, since you sound pretty wound-up right now, I will be checking any system indeed and see if there is a way to spot my own old Jeep somewhere in the manic afternoon traffic in this city of ours. And before you are about to ask any further, Mr. Callen did feel the urge to take a car from my garage and drive off into town. Now, please do feel free and tell me why it is you apparently seem to need our lead agent's current position?"

It was quiet on the other side of the line, although she did recognize the roaring sound of a car, which she figured it was Sam Hanna's Dodge.

"Hetty… Nell is not around?" Eric asked.

Hetty said "She isn't indeed."

Then there was Sam's deep voice sounding, and she imagined how Eric had put his phone on speaker "G may be in trouble Hetty. He isn't answering his phone."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Long Beach Medical Center**

Rogers had been the one who drove to the hospital and for the first five minutes Nell was wondering how the next moves might be. She wasn't used to work this directly with this DOJ Special Prosecutor and she remembered all too well how every team member was annoyed when he decided to stay longer than they envisioned. She silently shook her head, which made Rogers glance sideward.

"You were saying anything, Jones?"

"Not… Nothing, Sir. I was just thinking, that's all."

Both were silent for a few seconds, but then Nell tried again. "I was thinking… when Callen and you were talking, why did you take him into the boatshed and into an interrogation room like, well, like any ordinary suspect? I mean, you were together, Sir. Always one person as a witness, and this conversation could've taken place anywhere."

Something which sounded between a chuckle and a grumble came from the man sitting next to her. Then Rogers shrugged and said "You know, it was the first remark and the first angry question your agent in charge was asking too."

Was this all he had to say or was he pondering how to continue this phrase? Nell had some serious doubts about that but decided to wait another minute or so.

"Being in an official interrogation room would mean that everything that was to be said was recorded and stored, saved on tape. Ready to be re-watched, and again, if necessary."

Nell ascertained. "Still, it feels wrong to treat a coworker, our lead agent, as a bad guy like you were."

"Was I? Like you said, Jones. We were together and the conversation is recorded."

Her eyes widened and then she shook her head once again. "I thought… Well, there was you and Emerson White, Sir. And there was Callen."  
Rogers wasn't easy to read, Nell experienced it even now. What did he mean exactly?

"The man left, angry and without me being able to talk him into some reason. Somehow he seems to dislike me being in here, don't you think?"

"I think he has every reason to think so, Sir. He prefers some direct action and ambiguous conversations. Not having to guess or not being certain what you mean. Like, in fact, I am at the moment. But it isn't about me and only now I managed to read between the lines."

Rogers glanced her way, again, and chuckled aloud this time. Then he mentioned "There's no reading between the lines right now. This is where we are and I need to hear directly from you. What do we know about Lieutenant Gerard's condition, Jones, and what are you going to ask her?"  
He drove the agency's car onto the parking deck and concentrated on finding a parking spot. Nell did the same but continued talking as well. "She was shot, but you know that. A bullet in the abdomen, causing serious trauma. And —" She motioned to an empty gap between three other cars and said "There!" and continued where she stopped only seconds ago. "Another bullet in the thigh. She nearly blead to death. Not sure if she'll be back on duty after she heals. I mean, she may not heal after all."

He positioned the car and slowly pulled it into the free space. After he parked, Rogers put the Ford in neutral, stopped it and finally took the card. "We'll see how she's doing, Jones. Then listen what she can tell us about last night."

Nell just nodded before she got out and followed their temporary boss to the elevators to the hospital's lobby. She introduced herself only some minutes later in the private room. The other woman appeared to be sleeping but her eyes were opened the minute Nell had cleared her throat.

"Ma'am? Agents Jones and Rogers," she said. She'd been in the field with Deeks and Kensi every now and then and she managed to find the right words to express her – their – sorrow for the other woman to be injured the way she was. Immediately after that, it appeared that Rogers was the practical one of them. No time for chit-chats — he went straight into business. "Please do tell me in your own words what happened."

Elly Gerard tiredly turned her head to him and replied after a few seconds. "Manuel was shot because he knew too much and he shared it with me. He knew too much about the others smuggling and exchanging about everything they got their hands on, in exchange for cash." She sighed deeply and continued. "Or drugs. I hated that... the drugs — so many young people are getting addicted and depend on a new load. Another shot, or new pills... Manuel spoke freely about it. They knew he shared it with me."  
Her pale brown eyes widened again. "You think I'm still in danger?"

Without acknowledging or denying her question, Nell asked "Did you notice this man?".  
At first she only got a feeble smile as a reaction. Elly Gerard was about her own age, Nell figured, yet she was looking older right now. Perhaps because being shot and suffering and after surgery people tended to look like this? She didn't know. The ginger red hair of the other woman just clung to her skull and on the pillow and her eyes were sunk deeply in the sockets.  
Still she found the energy to have a look at the small screen of the phone which Nell showed her. After another pause Elly Gerard said "I do. He already was there when we arrived".

"With whom?" Rogers inquired.

"Nobody. He was alone. I know because I heard one of our group talk about him. He is… I think Mark was scared because he was around. They were whispering something and... Who is he?"

"It doesn't matter," said Rogers. He shot a short gaze at Nell as if to say she shouldn't talk about Callen either and then he continued. "What happened? Who is Mark? How was this man dragged into a bar fight?"

There were too many questions he was asking at the same time, and Lieutenant Gerard was getting too tired too, it was clear to both of them. She said "Mark, well Mark, he didn't like him. He was scared and angry at the same time. I saw it. Saw them... Him..."  
What it was she meant wasn't clear since her eyes closed and it was clear she was about to fall asleep. Rogers tried again. "What do you mean?"

No reply this time and immediately after a nurse entered the room. When she noticed the patient's condition she said "It's enough. This woman needs to rest. I suggest you could come by for another visit later tonight, or tomorrow morning".

Nell could see on Rogers' face he was very irritated, still, she couldn't blame the nurse, nor the patient. Right now, there wasn't enough information to work with. After all, there might be so many Marks in Gerard's and Manuel Franklin's teams, she figured.

With her tablet in her hands, she followed Rogers who marched to the car they came with and decided she wouldn't address him unless she had anything new to mention. Which was, in fact, a short 5 minutes later.  
"Now what I did was kind of, ehm, unusual, I do agree, Sir. I did manage to upload some lists of the team in which Elly Gerard and Manuel Franklin worked. Two names popped up, Mark Houston and Brenton Mark. What do you think the next best step is?"

Concentrating on LA's traffic Rogers mumbled something unheard, then he said "Make sure this action of yours is not labeled as a legal action when it comes to that, Jones. Any chance finding addresses or phone numbers of these men?"

She smiled. "I'm an intelligence officer Sir. Of course I can."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

"Mister Hanna… You of all people should be aware that when mister Callen is off line, he doesn't want to be reached. Now, despite of all his efforts there are some ways of tracing his whereabouts, right? But I have to remind you, he was warned not to contact you and he doesn't want to get you into trouble. Yet you mention he is the one who got himself into trouble?"

"He is. Manuel Franklin worked himself into some trouble too, we think, and was killed by someone who wants to frame Callen."

"Mister Callen would never shoot the innocent, now, would he?"

She wasn't able to see how Sam and Eric shook their heads in unison but it was as if she waited them to do so when she continued a short few seconds later "Now then. I do have his private number as well and I'll run the systems to turn the phone on, that is, if he turned it off."

"It's going straight into voicemail."

"Mister Hanna, rest assured I will make him contact you, or the office, in one way or another, within the hour."

"You… you know how to do that?" Eric was surprised.

She tutted then said "Mister Beale… Who do you figure wrote the scripts once the computers were invented?"

The connection was ended after that and Sam started laughing aloud before he said "You bet she knows how to do that, and more, Beale."

A quarter of an hour later, Eric's tablet started bleeping and he looked at it in shock. "Looks like Callen's phone is still on voice-mail, but son-of-a-bitch, look at this."  
Sam glanced sideward and grinned. "At least we can follow him without any trouble. Gardena Freeway, right?"

A nod came from the tech next to him and a minute later, Eric said "Don't think he's going for the 'In-N-Out' at East Pacific."

"He's not. Seal Beach Naval Beach sounds as the most probable place, Eric." He had no doubts and hit the gas just a bit more.

* * *

_Well, let me know your thoughts on this issue! Thanks for reading,_

Kni®benrots


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**3 strikes - out**

* * *

A/N Thank you all so much for reviewing. This will, believe it or not, nearly the final chapter of this story. And indeed, it took a while, writing and rewriting, thinking how to let this story end. There simply isn't as much love between this story and me as usually, unfortunately.  
Feel free to read this chapter as well and let me know how you liked it!

Kni®benrots

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

Hetty was able to follow the small red dot on the screen in front of her, the same one like Sam and Eric were observing as well.  
She shook her head in frustration and wondered why he had decided to follow orders from Rogers and this man Emerson White. After all, if there was one person she knew who was as headstrong and rebellious in this team, it was the man this was all about. Stubbornly trying to solve a case, as a lone wolf again. On the other hand it didn't surprise her at all, since Callen was the one who'd try to keep the others of his team out of trouble.

With some effort she had managed to contact his phone to the advanced systems which Nell and Eric worked with nowadays. Yet it never meant she was able to contact Callen, no matter how hard she tried.

She tried and tried but finally gave up on it. Instead, she contacted Eric again.  
"Mister Beale, this is your operations manager again to let you know that I am calling in the other field agents to head into the same direction without any delay."

"You mean Kensi and Deeks? But Hetty, they're at this bar at Hermosa".

She hummed several times and envisioned the map of Los Angeles' freeway and highway systems, until she finally decided "I see what I can arrange and of course there is the detesting paper work which comes afterwards, still…" She paused a second, then said "I may just as well get them over there in a helicopter".

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || Seal Beach Navy Base**

While he was on his way, Callen heard his phone bleep several times. He knew what that meant — Eric and Nell were finding a way to activate his phone, even his own private phone. Probably because Sam asked them to do so and he gave them the number probably as well.  
He shrugged merely to himself. Tracing his route was something his partner may have insisted on and although Callen himself had promised Rogers and White that he was not to contact the office, he wasn't going to stop his team to try and reach him.

He sighed several times. This wasn't the way he was enjoying to work any longer. Sure, he was experienced enough to work undercover for quite a long time, but in cases like that there was the big guy or one of the others who had his back. He'd grown into a team player in the end.  
An he now wondered why on earth he had agreed to leave his gun and badge and let the others do the job. In fact he was working the same case and even if Rogers decided to suspend him from active duty for the next few weeks, Callen was going to involve the team members anyway. He would share the questions he had ready for the FBI man anyway.

Actually, it was about how he had planned it.

Still behind the wheel, he took his phone and swept the screen to the left, then pressed his thumb for a full 10 seconds on the screen. There were two more screen actions before he put his phone behind the lower part of his shirt, where it ended near his belly button. He was aware that in any other place to keep it, it would be found sooner or later. He drove another two miles before slowed down.

He spoke aloud "I'm here, Nell, meeting with FBI agent White. And I know you're listening and you can easily find the exact location I am calling from."

Then he finally pulled over.

Emerson White was right where Callen had agreed to meet with him.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects**

Back at OSP Hetty shook her head several times. The team leader of her A-team knew someone was listening. And it would be she who was going to have to listen to whatever her boy was doing. As a witness, but too far to actually interfere.

For a full three minutes Hetty wondered what to do next. She knew Sam was nearby and the chopper with Deeks and Kensi would land in only another five minutes. And she knew Callen knew someone was listening. His way to go in like the lone wolf he once was, yet he also had learned to trust his team. And so she decided to inform his team.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Since John Rogers was driving and it would take at least another quarter of an hour from reaching the office, Nell figured it would be rather easy to make two phone calls. She trusted her intuition and her experience by now. Pondering over the two different Marks, it would be most logical to mention someone with a first name.

So she dialed the number of the first 'Mark' she found. There were three rings only and the phone switched to voicemail. She shook her head, let the whole message be heard while checking the time she was online as well. No way she was leaving a message herself, but she smiled to herself when she saw it all took a full two minutes and three seconds. She'd keep that in mind.

Then she made the second call and it was within the second ring when a female voice answered her call.

-"Jennifer Mark."

"Jennifer, this is Nell Jones speaking. I was expecting Brenton to answer this call."

-"My husband. Why did you say you need to talk to him?"

Nell hesitated a second before she replied. "Is he around? You see, I was wondering if he went and visit a bar called the 'Mullay Harris' recently."

-"Mark is doing some groceries right now, but he forgot to take his phone. He left it next to my bed. You see, I just had my knee operated on, and he's taken some days off to take care of the cores I usually do. For which I'm grateful, of course." There was a short pause, and the woman curiously asked "You needed him for what again?"

"Ehm… in fact, I think you already answered my question," Nell said. "I'm looking for witnesses in a case NCIS is currently working on. The name Mark was mentioned, and I think your husband is not the one we are looking for, in fact. So, thank you for being so kind to talk to me. And I surely hope you'll have a speedy recovery, ma'am. If by any chance your husband does feel like calling me back, does my number appear in the screen of your phone?"

There was a hick-up in the sound before the voice sounded again "It is. I'll let him know you called."

Nell let her hand go through her hair and was planning her next move. Then Rogers opened his mouth to start and ask something, but she stopped him with a simple sign of her hand. With her left hand, she activated a simple program which she used to work with, then took her phone and dialed the first number again. This time she let the phone ring until it went to voicemail again, and she started to talk. "Hi there, this is Nell in here. You know, we met before?" She paused a few seconds, watched the other screen and continued "I wondered… any chance you want to have another date?" She then smiled and hit the red button on her phone to end the call.

"Like you said, Sir, this is the man we are looking for. Caller is roughly around at the same location Callen is heading for."

"Meaning?"

She carefully chose her words. "Meaning… What Elly Gerard noticed was Mark Houston who knew Callen and who probably was trying to frame him for a crime Callen never committed. And Houston never worked alone." She bit the inside of her cheek and said "I should let the others know."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || Seal Beach Navy Base**

The FBI man nodded something which he read as a greet and so he did the same.  
"So," Emerson White said, never really looking Callen straight into the eyes. "You wanted to see me... about what?"

Callen shrugged. "About how come the police never contacted you, though you were at our office already. How did you do that?"  
Callen knew Nell or Eric was listening and he felt okay with it. He kept his gaze locked with White's.

"Let's say that by being there before you were, I gained time," White explained.

"You gained time?"

"That's right."  
The eyes of the FBI man fluttered for an instant when another car came near and halted as well. A simple and short motion which made Callen wary to what happened behind his back.  
Doors opened and closed, not one but three and he knew he was in serious trouble.

"You were thinking perhaps you could rat someone out".

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, which was good. His gut feeling told him that Emerson White had hid something all along the way. Something which he needed to know and something which may just as well be big, much bigger than he envisioned so far.

Suddenly he felt a powerful blow in the small of his back which made him stumble forward. He managed to break his fall with his hands and was just in time to avoid a kick in his ribs. Immediately after that, strong hands hoisted him back on his feet again.

White nodded a probable sign to the men who held him and said "Isolating you from your team and knowing your curiosity would get you in here as a perfect scapegoat wasn't my plan, you know. Although, if you had recognized Mark Houston in that pub lately things had taken a different turn."

The name Mark Houston did sound familiar but at this very moment Callen couldn't care less for scraping his memory and talk about him. Not right now and certainly not with White.  
"You won't get away with this," Callen breathed.

"Well, even if I don't get away with it, you'll be the one who loses it completely. You won't live to know how it ends," White grinned. "Because you're about to have a nasty accident with this car of yours, and in which you are unfortunately going to die."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

_From a small distance, Eric and Sam were listening to what was said. Sure, the intel came in a little muffled but it would serve well as evidence, in the end._  
_"We need to intervene, Hetty," Sam said._

_-"We wait," her response came. It sounded less convincing than he heard her speak for a long time._

_Deeks' voice came in his ear after Hetty's within the second. "Wait for what, for getting him killed?" He let it follow by "Kensi's in position. She's having a clear shot."_

_-"She's waiting until I order her to shoot."_  
_They all heard the deep sigh and knew how Hetty was facing the same dilemma; wanting to hear the exact confession they expected to hear from Emerson White yet wanting to keep Callen safe._

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Callen didn't reply and there was a punch in his stomach. Without caring for how the ones at Ops would hear his groans and moans, he doubled and White waited for him to straighten up.

He tried to clear his thoughts and needed to forget about his hurting body. He knew he was in trouble and honestly didn't see a way out yet, not without his team around. He wsn't able to estimate though how far would they'd be, in time.

"You never really found out what's going on, did you, agent Callen? Nor will that team of yours. They won't know what to look for, and we've worked fast. They won't see what's not there, since we made no mistakes".

"Maybe I set up a trap too", Callen said.

White chuckled. "That'd be stupid. You're running out of time by the way".

Another voice behind Callen sounded. "The guys will need another fifteen minutes to destroy evidence."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

_It was Nell who now spoke, her voice muting the sounds she did not want to hear anyway. "I'll alert Moreira at Seal Beach and Raymund from Los Alamitos, Hetty. We're not sure who Emerson White is working with, except for the fact that this Franklin was Navy. It may just as well be a joint operation, and Mark Houston is from Los Alamitos as well."_

_-"NCIS teams are in position as we speak," Hetty mentioned. She carefully listened to all the sounds she heard in the background, not sure how long she could wait before she would order the rest of the team to rush in. So far, Callen was still fighting, and breathing. "Be ready, all of you, to prevent…" She didn't finish her sentence, nor did she feel that she had to. Sam would understand, and so would Kensi and Deeks._

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

After the smug smile on Emerson White's face when the quarter of an hour was mentioned, Callen read the sudden doubt and anger in his eyes. "You're wired," he hissed. A short nod to the men behind him.  
"Get him up and search him," White ordered. "Ears, pockets… Don't have to remind you he's NCIS, do I?"  
With that, White stepped back only a foot, leaving the search to the two other men.

Callen managed to deliver a karate chop to the neck of one of the other men before he was slammed back onto the tarmac, the boot of White breaking both the bones in his left forearm which caused him to cry out in pain.

"How did you envision that your life was going to end, agent Callen?"

He'd thought about that question many times during his youth, and of course later as well, during his career in one of the alphabet soup of agencies.  
But wasn't it odd to think about the 'how to die...' question on a moment like this, or even worse, to share his thoughts with someone who was likely be the one to kill him anyway?  
Truth was that Callen always hoped it would be a fast kill-shot. One that came unexpectedly, and one that he would hardly notice or see it coming. Not the long suffering and knowing every breath to take was a struggle, or waking up after surgery and knowing how long it would take him to heal again, or worse, to be injured without being able to get better. In fact, he was too scared to think of situations like that. The quality of life would be so depressing that it scared him to death. And although he wasn't going to share, not even with Sam, Callen couldn't envision getting old or retire. Somehow he believed he never would reach a moment like that at all.

"Well?"

Callen shook his head.

"Suffering now, are we?"

"You won't win." His voice was a whimper as the pain and the despair were winning over. He'd hoped his team would be around, but they weren't there and the pang of losing his faith in a happy ending came only a short second before the same boot of White hit his head. With the third strike he lost it and he was out.

.

.

[tbc]


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**3 strikes - out**

* * *

A/N So far, last December and January weren't the kindest months to me. Family needed to be cared of, my mom and oldest son were hospitalized, my knee cap decided to move a slight bit, which left me in horrible pains. Luckily this is all getting better! Then, two co-workers left and I've done things I never did before, work related. Also I was left with a serious writing block…  
But then, here we are, really at the very final part of this story. Again, I want to thank you all for sticking to this story, especially Linda Wigginton! But it goes for all of you, of course, so thank you for reviewing. I finally know how to let this story end.

Once again, the idea came after I read about NCIS working on a case where they apprehended sailors and Marines who were smuggling drugs and work on human trafficking. Still, it is a work of fiction which means that names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Feel free to read this chapter as well and leave me a review!

Kni®benrots

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:**  
Recognizable characters are not mine, hopefully CBS & Shane Brennan let me just play with them.

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || Seal Beach Navy Base**

"How much time do we need?" Eric nervously asked. Deeks immediately snapped to no one in particularly as he witnessed what happened. "He's defenseless, and —"  
He stopped speaking as he saw how the men started dragging Callen towards a car. Not his own, Deeks knew, but somehow the large Jeep fit him. "What the hell…" he swore.

From his position he observed how something made the men look up at Emerson White. While dragging the limp body of the agent in charge, the shirt that Callen wore and had carefully tucked into his jeans, was lifted during the action enough to have the phone he'd hidden underneath drop on the tarmac.

Once Emerson White noticed it, his face grew pale and his eyes spit fire. Loud curses were heard and White lifted a gun from a holster. A second later he fired it and the phone was destroyed.

Loud yells now came from everywhere. In their earpieces it was Nell's voice yelling "Our men were in time and all evidence is still there. Good to go!"

At the headquarters, Hetty suddenly missed the direct line without knowing what happened. All she had right now were the contacts she had with the rest of the team. "Do what you think is right," she said, perhaps to no-one in particular.

And Sam, whose dark voice barked 'Execute! Kensi, execute!'.  
In his voice all kind of emotions sounded. He was scared for his best friend, afraid that White's shot was going to sound sooner than Kensi's. Angry for not being able to intervene any earlier and perhaps above all, frustrated that Callen had once again chosen to work alone. Sure, perhaps not completely voluntary, but all in all it would have been so much easier that his partner had been an open book instead of leaving breadcrumbs like he'd done with the phone. Had Callen really walked into a trap like this, playing with his life, deliberately to win time? Was he trusting his team enough, knowing they would be here in time to be able to be intervene indeed? In a matter of a second, thoughts like this crossed his mind.

While he already was on his feet and running towards the scene he saw how Emerson White dropped his gun and went down after Kensi's perfect shots. More shots came in the direction of the other two men who were around. Deeks and Eric, Sam reasoned, noticing nearly automatically from which direction the shots came.

And although he knew Callen was out and lay on the pavement, Sam shouted his name "G!"  
The slackness of the body of his buddy reminded him of the first moments after the shooting of the fifth of May, years ago. Yet this was so different. There was bleeding from Callen's head and the position of his left arm.  
"Damn, G," he muttered, knowing that his partner wouldn't hear him. "Where's the teamwork this time?"

There was a frantic 'Sam, status please' in his ear and while looking around he nodded and said "We're good, Nell. Need an ambulance for Callen though."

The operations manager now spoke "How is he, Mr. Hanna? I want a fair reply."

"Headwound and his arm is broken, that much I can see, Hetty. There are cuts and bruises, he's been kicked and beaten, so perhaps there's some internal damage, I can't tell. That's all."

He heard how she slowly breathed out, and Sam did the same, feeling how the first bit of adrenaline left his body.

He felt someone coming in his direction and he knew by the step itself it was Kensi. "He ought to be okay in a month or so, don't you think?" he asked to nobody in particular, still, also to her.

His female co-worker shrugged, squatted down and gave her opinion "I hope so, Sam. I looks like a nasty fracture though." She continued "We came by helicopter, remember. It's still here. We could send Callen to a hospital that way?"

"Not necessary Kens, there should be a medi-chopper any time soon," Nell said. "He needs a medical check-up before you move him, don't you think? How about the other guys?"

Kensi stood up and watched how Eric and Deeks did a quick check of the four men that were responsible for the lead agent's situation. "Deeks! What do we need?"

Her husband held up two fingers and shouted back "two!" and Kensi repeated it, not knowing if Nell was able to hear Deeks as well. "Two to care of, and a coroner. White is alive."

"Well done, Miss Blye," Hetty answered, obviously listening on the same line as Nell. "We'll wait for Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna at the usual hospital." She shook her head and made sure that Nell was to prepare the files she'd take with her on her way to the hospital.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Los Angeles || ****'****the Squid and the Dagger'****|| four weeks later**

It had been quite a struggle to get up early, have a shower and get dressed but he'd managed it all. Sam would be around to pick him up in a few minutes.

It was time for some new steps in his personal life.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**_previously_**

The first full five days spent in the hospital were long, but an easy ride and actually doable compared to the time he involuntary spent at home during the following weeks.

After the most severe headaches were gone, he'd been sent home. Pins and plates and plaster kept his arm in the right position for the time being, and he realized all to well he'd needed another operation someday near.

Home... where Roberta Deeks and Hetty had been around, both more than willing to help and fussing over him and although they meant well, Callen had enough of the situation. He'd been out for another long walk and had decided to discuss the situation with Hetty, the minute she'd show up.

She anticipated, actually, the way only she could. "Remember, Mr. Callen, how we had that little chat some months ago? About how I won't be around forever, running our business?"

It had bothered him at the time, but he'd shrugged the thought off during the many cases that needed to be solved. He opened his mouth for a reply but hesitated when Hetty smiled his way, softer than he was used to. She gently let her hand rest on the cast and his eyes followed that hand. Bonier and with more dark spots than he remembered. He looked up and let his gaze rest on her face. There still was strength and wisdom in her eyes, yet she seemed to age faster than Callen really imagined. Was she suffering from the effects of Agent Orange after all, like Granger had? He heaved a deep sigh, one that said more than Henrietta Lange really heard. Then Callen nodded and softly spoke "I don't know, Hetty."

"Give it a try, dear boy. You and I both know you're far from being cleared for field work. Right now you're getting annoyed from doing nothing. Go and try and run the office." She paused a few seconds, staring ahead without really looking at anything, and continued "I'd like some time off. However, I'll be around, so don't worry about me this time."

"But…" he shook his head. He really didn't want to know. He really didn't want to try. "I can't ever replace you. I can't.. what if I make a decision you wouldn't agree of? You know I can't ever … be you."

She closed her eyes for a second and smiled that soft way again. Tired, he recognized. "Director Vance will guide you. Trust your gut feeling, Mr. Callen. Has it ever let you down?"

He grinned and shrugged "Not really. Still, there are the many times I got shot or stabbed, despite that gut feeling."

"Too many times indeed, Mr. Callen. You and I know that nobody is invincible."

Callen simply shook his head. "I'd like to think we all are. In fact…"

"I don't want to see you die before my time has come," she interrupted, her voice sharper this time. "There ought to be more in life than you've experienced so far. You're young enough and there's still time left to, well, time to smell the roses".

He huffed. "As if I haven't—"

Again, she interrupted. "Our younger intelligence officers sure will find her, Mr. Callen." And with a cunning smile she added "I wouldn't be surprised that Miss Jones already found a first trail."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Callen recognized the roar of the black Challenger and closed the door of the Squid and the Dagger. A new day. Ready for another day at the office.

* * *

THE END

_Thanks for reading! Are you all ready for the next episodes of the show? I am!_


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